Thursday, August 21, 2008

the saxophonist, that is. outside my window--i can't make out the song, just the melody--and I can imagine him--in his small apartment, filling up all the space with hot air and vitriolic sound. and nearly everyday at this time. i wish he'd wait, 4 hours, and maybe play me to sleep. i could use a bedtime story....not so much "once upon a time," but definitely the "happily" part. i wonder if he tries hard and fights with it, or if it spills out naturally--and he fights with it.

sidenote: if i played something--i'd stay away from horns. i think it'd be the guitar--if only for the lovely arms--and, oh, the coolness factor :-)